


Belonging to the Family

by GypsyQueen7



Series: Sore Butt,Clean Conscience [3]
Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: M/M, Spanking, Strapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsyQueen7/pseuds/GypsyQueen7
Summary: Rusek remembers his first punishment at Olinsky's hand - Olinsky really doesn't like to have to tell people something twice.
Relationships: Adam Ruzek/Hank Voight, Alvin Olinsky/Adam Ruzek
Series: Sore Butt,Clean Conscience [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747804
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Belonging to the Family

So whilst writing my request story my muse kinda hit with this – it took some hashing out to figure this out but I hope that you like. 

Warning: This will contain non-sexual spanking of an adult so if that is not your thing – consider yourself warned. No haters from here on in. 

Hope you enjoy the same and I love to hear from you all. For more stories like the one below feel free to go over to my profile. 

All the love,

K xx   
_

The engine of the truck seems louder with Al ignoring me. I had tried to make idle chatter at the start of the ride however, with one grunt and a Hmm to work with I wasn’t having much luck. I knew Al was mad – I had worked with him long enough to recognise the signs. I sigh and turn my attention to the streets whizzing past us. I knew with the whole silent fury act he had going on that I was in for a strapping when we got back to the precinct. Al was furious enough that Voight would probably sit in to make sure no lines were crossed in anger. Voight didn’t usually sit in with Al’s punishments, trusting him to know limits but he sometimes did – after all it was his team! It wasn’t like a particularly enjoyed the punishments, after all Al did operate under the philosophy that if you go hard the first time, then you are less likely to re-offend, but I felt calmer about the punishments where Voight sat in. He had a protective streak about his team that ran a mile long which, when he sat in on a punishment, had an effect to make you remember that this unit was a family more than just work colleagues. 

As the people and cars whooshed by outside of the car window, I turned my mind back to the very first strapping I had got in this team.

******

Olinsky had refused to say a word to me the whole way down from the squad room. The station was silent, the Intelligence Garage was in darkness with only the light from the weapons locker lighting some of the room, most corners staying hidden in darkness. I felt my breathing pick up slightly as I entered the room behind Olinsky, unsure of what was going to happen. 

I tried to calm my nerves, however a few stories told by older students at the Academy wormed their way to the front of my memory unbidden. Stories of the old-style cops that drowned criminals in the river rather than arrest them and ones that found breaking a few ribs was the best way of making people talk. Olinsky and Voight didn’t seem to run their unit with the PD Handbook so my nerves were a little wrecked at the prospect of having no-one around for this “chat” that Olinsky wanted to have. I was starting to regret my choice that afternoon of finding Voight's order…. flexible at best.

The scrapping of one of the plastic chairs got my attention and I watched, silent for the first time since they had pulled me out of the Academy, as Olinsky dragged a plastic chair from the table at the side to the middle of the Garage floor – seat facing me, hovering by the door. 

“You want to stay in this unit kid?”

Olinsky’s voice bounced loud off of the walls; I nod not making eye contact.

“Then there is a choice for you to pick – you either get over here, get rid of your jeans and bend over the chair for a strapping or you go back upstairs. Voight’ll report you in the morning and you’ll be back in the Academy by lunchtime. Your choice.”  
I dart my eyes upwards in panic at the sentence – I wasn’t keen to get an ass whopping however there was no way I wanted to go back to the Academy again. I was enjoying working with the Unit – doing some real Police work. The “choice”, if that was what you could call it as he knew full well I was never going back to the Academy if I could help it, was already decided in my mind. 

I nod slightly before moving across the room and pulling at my jeans button as I round the chair. I push my jeans and boxers down and bend over the chair, gripping the edge of the seat with both hands. I flinch as I hear Olinsky pulling his belt through his beltloops and the crack as it comes free. 

The sound of the leather belt being folded in two and the slight clink of the metal clasp seemed extraordinarily loud. Then there was silence. 

My breathing picked up - I could feel my chest heaving as my heartrate increased. My heavy breathing and the loud drumming of my heart in my ears seemed to be so loud that I was sure that it must be echoing around the garage, bouncing off of the walls. The feeling of the back of the chair digging into my stomach was becoming uncomfortable and I shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure of the plastic back of the chair in my stomach when a swooshing sound caught my attention. 

As I was jolted forward I tightened my grip on the seat of the chair to attempt to catch myself. There was nothing for a second before the blistering line of pain started across my butt. Another swooshing sound reached my ears and again I was knocked forward slightly with the force of the blow. It jolted the breath out of my lungs and I felt a startled squeak force itself out of my mouth. I tried to pull another breath in however just as I managed to breath in another hit fell - and the breath again was knocked out of me. I found myself gasping for air as the blistering pain had increased to an inferno encompassing my whole butt now. I was starting to feel slightly lightheaded and dizzy with the lack of breath and the blood rushing to my head. 

"Al!"

Voight's voice seemed to echo around the room suddenly, causing me to jump. I hadn't known that the Head of Intelligence was in the room let alone watching. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I hear the scrap of a chair off to my left near the table, I move my head between my forearms to try and hid as Voight's footsteps become louder. The closer he becomes, the harder I try to hid as shame twists sharply in my chest. 

The warmth of a hand on my lower back startles me, I try to twist away however, I feel a flicker of cold air brush past me as Voight moves beside me and then his voice is suddenly very close to my ear, 

"Breathe slowly Adam, come on, catch your breath."

I felt my lungs expand as air rushes into them quickly at Voight's quiet command. The hand on my back is rubbing in slow clockwise circles, as the dizzy pounding in my head started to fade.

"Breath after the hit kid."

Was the rasped advice in my ear as I hear another swoosh and I rock forwards on to my hands. His hand is still light on my back, not holding me there but a comforting presence for the minute. It doesn’t reduce the blistering pain in my ass any but it is settling nonetheless. 

"Breathe in Adam"

Was the sharp reminder in my ear as I forget to breath, so focused on Voight instead of the actual punishment I was receiving. I pull in a breath as the pain builds and another hit lands to knock the breath out. I feel the hand move from my back and the air shifts as Voight moves backwards again. I kinda miss his presence as he moves away. It’s nice to know that someone is looking out for me during this – that he is not that angry at me for disobeying his orders. His footsteps end quickly however, as he moves to hover a little way off somewhere over to my right by the cage is my guess. I feel his stare on my back checking my breathing and the hard feeling of shame in my stomach loosens as I realise that Voight is looking out for me more than trying to humiliate me. 

We fall into a rhythm after that - the pain building as I suck breathe into my lungs and   
the next hit pushing it back out. The pain in my ass is beyond blistering now. I’m not entirely sure how the hell I am ever going to sit down ever again with the strength Olinsky is putting behind his swings. 

“You think an order is flexible? That we are saying it just to be mean? To keep you out of the action kid?”

I started slightly as Olinsky’s voice shattered the silence. I drag a breath in enough to answer his question,

“No sir”

“No? Then what are you going to do in the future?”

“Follow you and Voight’s orders sir.”

I grunt out through gritted teeth as Olinsky moves his hits lower to start peppering my sit spots and top of my thighs with stinging hits.

“You’d better, cause you really don’t want to know what I do to people I have to tell something twice to!”

With ten more stinging hits there is silence. I clench slightly waiting for the next hit to fall but it doesn’t. I feel a hand on my arm helping me stand, steadying me as my legs regain their solid form and not the jelly that they are currently residing as. I bend to pull up my jeans and boxers up and hiss. The skin on my butt is so sore that it feels like I am still getting strapped every time I bend slightly. My hands settle on my knees as I close my eyes for a second to stop the tears that are pooling slightly in the corners from falling. I feel the hand on my back again before a hand on my jeans pulling them up slowly, gently easing them over my butt. The hand is rubbing circles on my back as the cloth touches my tender ass and I again hiss, squeezing my eyes tighter at this new added onslaught. 

I remain with my eyes closed for another minute or so before, opening them and turning to see which one of them was being so nice. Olinsky is hovering off to the side, his belt now firmly back on his jeans; it is Voight that is beside me. Voight’s hand on my back comforting me, Voight who helped me straighten up and it is Voight that grabs his keys out of his jacket pocket and offers to drive me home. I groan at the idea of having to sit down in the car to get there but the possibility of walking the 1 hour walk home is just worse than the 10-minute car drive. I nod, smiling gratefully at the offer. I feel Olinsky pat me on the back as I pass him. 

I am jolted in my seat and thus out of my memory as the car door slams. It is only then that I realise that we have arrived back at the station. Night is falling over Chicago and the silence is eerie somehow. I pull my seatbelt off and jump out of the truck, following Al down the path and towards the back entrance in to the Intelligence Garage. 

As we enter I can see that the same plastic chair is set in the middle of the room, Voight is leaning against the cage as we enter, looking the picture of serenity and calm and not at all like he is about to watch Al strap the hell out of my ass. I sigh as the door slams behind me and I slid my jeans down my legs; bending over the chair without a word. As the first blow falls it occurs to me that after all of this time, after all of these punishments I have long since mastered the technique of breathing after the hit yet ever since my first punishment, Voight still hoovers to my left and I can feel his gaze on my chest – watching, checking that I am breathing in at the right time, checking my responses. 

As the second hit falls and I suck in a breath, I smile slightly. I feel that same sense of family, of belonging and although I know that sitting for the next few weeks is going to be hell; I’d take that any day to feel this sense of belong that Voight and his team give me. Not for the first time, I’m really glad that Al picked me from the Academy.


End file.
